


Mysterious Kiss

by fineinthemorning



Category: B-PROJECT 鼓動＊アンビシャス | B-PROJECT: Kodou Ambitious
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Original Character(s), Story within a Story, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-19 03:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10631019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineinthemorning/pseuds/fineinthemorning
Summary: Kitakore has been cast as main characters in an upcoming drama. However, it's a drama based off of a  . . . yaoi manga?! About vampires?!"You two always get along so well."Not anymore.





	1. Sign Here

“Mysterious Kiss?” Tomohisa repeated back what he’d just heard from their A&R. Kitakore and Tsubasa Sumisora were all in a cab on their way to a film studio in Odaiba. Tsubasa had told them they had a meeting the night before, but, for some reason, she hadn’t said what for. They had been prepared for anything, but they hadn’t expected this.

Tsubasa smiled encouragingly, though she appeared to be hiding something behind her teeth, “Yes, that’s the name of the manga it’s based off of.”

Ryuuji reflected aloud, “Like our song . . .” They were apparently on their way to a meeting to discuss a drama that both of them had been requested for. It’s title was certainly something they’d heard before though neight of them had ever actually heard of the manga of the same name.

“That’s right!” She responded over enthusiastically. 

“So, even without us auditioning, they want us to be in it?” Ryuuji unwrapped a lollipop and skeptically observed their A&R as he spoke, watching carefully for her reaction.

“Yes.” Tsubasa did her best to keep steady. B-Project had been involved in commercials, stage plays, films, variety shows, and had made cameos in dramas, but never had any of them been cast to play main characters in a full season before. 

“Ryuuji has never done a drama before,” Tomohisa appeared to be reading her mind, because he voiced his own conclusion. 

Ryuuji didn’t take the slightest offense; he understood what Kitakado was trying to say. So, naturally, he agreed, “It’s true. I’ve only ever acted in commercials.”

Tsubasa had actually said the same thing, but the casting director had explained everything over the phone, “Apparently . . . the original author requested it.”

Tomo blinked, “Ah, a haniga?”

“Yes?” Tsubasa assumed so.

Ryuuji was looking out the window of the car when he spoke, “This was the surprise for us?”

Tsubasa was back to smiling, “Yes,” but Ryuuji’s lack of enthusiasm made her nervous still, “The manga was actually pretty popular for a while.”

Tomohisa was gentle, “I haven’t heard of it.”

Ryuuji shifted his gaze to Tsubasa again and removed the lollipop from his mouth, “Me neither. Mika has never mentioned it, either.”

Tsubasa blushed suddenly, “I’ve never read it, either!”

“ . . . ?” Kitakore exchanged looks. Why was their A&R blushing?

Kitakado summed up both of their thoughts, “It would be very good for Kitakore and for B-Pro.”

“Let’s do our best,” Ryuuji said with a mischievous wink.

 

XXX

 

“Y-yaoi?” Ryuuji blinked. He wasn’t blushing; it didn’t embarrass him, but it did catch him off-guard. It was the second time he had been surprised that day.

The casting director smiled at the idol’s reaction. “Yes. You are familiar with the term?”

Korekuni nodded smoothly, “Yes, yes I am.”

“I-”

Immediately, before Tomohisa could say another word, Ryuuji tactfully nudged him in the side to shut up.

“Ryuuji?”

Ryuuji stood up and nodded politely to the other three at the table in front of them, “Could we be excused just a moment?”

The director nodded before saying, “Of course.” His expression did change to that of concern, however. 

Ryuuji pulled Tomo up and they left the meeting room for the hallway outside. He knew he was taking a risk, but he was not going to let Tomohisa’s bizarre upbringing embarrass the both of them.

When they were safely out of earshot of anyone else, Kitakado spoke, “Ryuuji, what is this? We can’t leave in the middle of-”

“Gay.” Ryuuji whispered, his brow furrowing somewhat in annoyance.

Tomo blinked, “What?”

Ryuuji went on, “Yaoi is gay.” He looked up into his partner’s eyes to gauge his comprehension, “It’s the term used for manga and anime that is about male relationships.”

Kitakado needed only a moment to process the new information, “Oh. . . . Is that a problem?” He often depended on Ryuuji to know these sorts of things; anything about pop culture was completely lost on him most of the time.

Ryuuji spoke quickly, “That could mean that you and I-”

Tomohisa interrupted, “Possibly? We don’t know the characters or plot yet. Besides, it’s only acting.”

“Yeah,” Ryuuji straightened. It was only acting. He was a professional, so it wasn’t an issue, just like it was clearly not an issue for Kitakado.

“Does it bother you?” Tomo’s forehead knit in concern. He wouldn’t force Ryuuji to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ryuuji waved it off. 

“Really?” Blue eyes searched fuschia ones. 

Ryuuji’s face flatlined before he rolled his eyes, “Yes, of course, we-I just asked you out here to explain it to you.”

Tomohisa smiled, “Oh, I understand now. Thank you.” If he counted the number of times in a day that Ryuuji did something adorable, he’d run out of fingers and toes.

“Let’s go back in.”

“Excuse us . . .” They both apologized for their absence as they reentered and sat down.

“Of course . . .” the director just seemed relieved that they had returned at all.

Tomohisa took over from there, “Please tell us more.”

 

XXX

 

“We have to decide this by tomorrow?” They were in the lobby of their apartment building when Tsubasa handed them two unassuming brown paper bags.

She nodded, “Yes. And, guard these with your life, okay? No one is allowed to see them save for the two of you.”

“Got it.”

Kitakado smiled gently to relieve her of any remaining stress, “Thank you, Tsubasa-chan.”

She smiled, made some comment about only ‘doing her job’, and then exited the building. 

“Shall we?” Kitakado handed over one of the paper bags.

Ryuuji accepted it and smiled, “Sure, of course.”

In the privacy of their apartment, they read the scripts separately. It was all ten episodes of the series, and though they knew they weren’t going to finish it all in one night, they still decided to read silently in order to get as far as they could through it. They had the option of reading it aloud, but they knew that if they started it then, they would likely not make it past the second episode. 

“This is . . .” Kitakado didn’t elaborate. He wasn’t sure how to explain it.

Ryuuji tried to help, “It’s about a lot more than just vampires.”

“It is.”

Ryuuji set down the script beside him on the couch by the widow, “I think I understand it now.”

“What?”

“What Fujiwara-sensei was saying about this series, I understand.” Fujiwara had been one of the men in the meeting that day. He was to be the director of the show.

“What did he say?”

Ryuuji repeated what he remembered, trying to attempt it word-for-word, “‘We are trying to do what Lillies on Fire did for the yuri genre.’”

Tomohisa felt lost, “Explain it to me?”

Ryuuji shrugged. “Last year, an anime came out about fire dancing, and at first, I think everyone expected it to be about the art of fire dancing, but instead it was about the troupe and their relationships, particularly the female protagonist and another female in a rival troupe. I didn’t actually watch it, but I remember hearing about it” He spoke honestly. It had been difficult to avoid hearing about it. It’s success had been a big surprise to many anime fans, apparently.

“Fire dancing? I’m not following.”

Ryuuji tried again, “They become lovers, or at least, it’s implied I think, and it is clear that they have a healthy relationship despite being on rival teams.”

“So, that would be a yuri anime?” Kitakado tried to put it altogether. 

“Well, that’s what it did, apparently. It blurred the lines between genres. I think that’s what Fujiwara-sensei wants to do with this.”

“But this is from a yaoi manga?”

Ryuuji was doing the best he could to try and decipher what had been learned so far, “Yeah, but Tsubasa was saying it was popular for a time, right? Maybe that’s because it didn’t follow the typical formula?”

Kitakado looked back at his script. A silence followed where neither said a word until finally, Tomohisa looked up again to ask, “Are you up to this?” He didn’t have the self-awareness to realize that he wanted to ask himself the same question, “They want to cast you as Ran.”

Ryuuji reflected on what he’d read so far. He’d only made it through the first episode, and it already appeared to be a rather heavy and complicated story. “The author, Hori-sensei, seems to believe you and I would be best for these parts,” he looked back up to his partner, “She did write the original story. Even if I’m unsure, I feel as though I should trust her judgement.”

“Are you up to this?” Kitakado asked again.

Ryuuji wriggled his nose“Yes, and you?”

Tomohisa laughed, “Even without finishing the script?” He didn’t answer Ryuuji’s question.

Ryuuji grabbed a pillow and threw it in his partner’s direction, “It would take all night to read!” He laughed back, “Besides, it would be best for B-Pro, right?”

Kitakado caught the pillow with a smile, “If it turns out well, then yes.”

Ryuuji sunk into the couch and pulled out a Chupa Chups from his pocket to unwrap and stick in his mouth, “The series already has fans. What matters is our acting.”

“Hopefully, with Hori-sensei’s blessing, we’ll be fine.”

 

XXX

 

“Three months?” Kazuna repeated, clearly surprised from the news. Kitakore had called B-Project together to let them know that they had accepted an offer to do a drama.

“Yes, the schedule is pretty tight,” Tomohisa replied.

Ryuuji tried to alleviate the tension, “We’ll be able to do the lives and practice, too. We have two weeks off in that time.”

Goushi did not tread lightly, “This will be a lot of work.”

Tomohisa accepted the comment, but responded with confidence, “We can manage this. We’ve done a film and still been successful.”

“Yeah,” was all the Thrive leader said.

“Congratulations!” Hikaru beamed.

“Thank you!” Ryuuji smiled.

Yuuta laughed, “Is it the detective story you hoped for?”

Ryuuji shook his head, smiling, “Haha, not quite. Tomo will be playing the part of a criminal, though.” Or, something like that.

Tomohisa turned to look at his partner “Is that fair?” He personally didn’t think the character he’d be playing, Haru, was a criminal necessarily. 

“Completely!” Ryuuji shot back.


	2. Episode 1

‘Ran, come here, Ran.” The woman, dressed only in a long nightgown with a peach colored peignoir, motioned for her eight-year-old son, who had just gotten back from school, to come to her.”

Ran looked from the house he had always known as his home and then back to his mother. She appeared calm, so he felt himself relax as well. When he reached her, he took her hand and looked forward at their home, “Mama, the house is on fire.”

“So it is. So it is.”

He looked up to her, “Shouldn’t we get help?” She was smiling warmly.

She crouched down and fixed the tie on his collar from his school uniform, “It’s fine, Ran. Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire.”

“Where is Papa?”

 

Ran woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. He froze suddenly, searched the darkness, and smiled, “Right, Tokyo.” He reached for his phone and tapped it once to see the time: 3:33am. “Again?”

Ran wiped his forehead with his pajamas by lifting his shirt and bending his head down. The moonlight illuminated a slender yet well toned body beneath the fabric. Without turning on the light, Ran sat up in bed, reached for the instrument case that rested against the nightstand, and pulled it up onto his bed. With only the light from the window, he opened the case, pulled out the violin, and placed it between his shoulder and chin. He pressed his warm cheek against the cool surface of the old instrument, lifted his bow, and began to play. 

 

“Cut!” Fujiwara yelled. Lights went up and Ryuuji stood up to hand the violin to a prop master that approached him. 

“Good, that was nice, but it is only the beginning,” he commented, “Arrange for the next apartment scene!” he yelled to the crew, “Scene 1.4!”

Ryuuji walked over to Tomohisa who was waiting off set with a smile.

“I still can’t get used to this,” he said first before remembering, “Oh, and we have the first scene down now. Thank you, prima.”

“Stop calling me that!” Ryuuji playfully hit Tomo in the arm with the back of his hand. Since Korekuni was cast as the star of this production, Hikaru had, at one point, likened him to a prima ballerina in a ballet. The title had apparently struck a chord in Tomo, because he couldn’t help but continue to tease Ryuuji over it. 

A hand was on his head suddenly, and Ryuuji batted it away, “Honestly, you need to get over it.  _ I’m  _ over it.”

“It’s black.” Tomohisa commented. He had never seen it actually dyed any other color before. When Ryuuji was small, he had worn wigs for some of the modeling he did, but he had never dyed his hair beyond the pink highlight.

“You look like Okamoto Tao,” Tomohisa reflected aloud.

Ryuuji rolled his eyes, “She’s a woman.” He was too distracted by the fact that Tomo had compared him to a woman to realize he had actually known an actress by name. Apparently he had been keeping up with the industry better than he had in years prior.

Tomohisa smiled and shrugged, “Well, Ran is supposed to appear androgynous.”

Ryuuji smiled, accepting it as a compliment, “She  _ is _ beautiful.”

“Just like Ryuuji-kun,” Tomohisa remarked without skipping a beat.

Ryuuji sighed, “Save that for haniga.”

 

Ran had only just moved from the small town of Takayama in the Gifu prefecture to Tokyo. After spending most of his life practicing the violin with guidance from a neighbor, he had been accepted into the private university, the Tokyo College of Music, on a full scholarship. He lived and breathed his violin. Never without it, he carried it with him everywhere he went. 

And so, as he walked out of the apartment and looked out into the streets of Toshima, Tokyo, the camera focused on the violin case at his right side, his fingers clasped tightly around the handle- enough that his knuckles were white. 

The daily routine of the college student was made apparent. He did not speak to his classmates. He did not socialize outside of class. He did not work. He only practiced, attended class, practiced more in one of the private practice rooms in the school, and then returned home to cook, complete homework, sleep, and repeat the practice all over again.

It was one afternoon, a few weeks into the semester, when he first met the person who would change his life and shatter the lies upon which he had built himself on. 

Music Theory, a required course for all freshman, was not something that Ran excelled in. He had gone to Waseda University Library to find materials for a research paper for the class. It wasn’t that his own university was lacking in music theory discourse; it was that it lacked any sort of literature on anything else. Even if it was a bus ride away, he figured that making the effort would be worth it though he was counting the minutes this was taking away from his time with his violin. He could always make up for his missed practice time by counting the hours he practiced every morning he woke up too early to go into campus for classes, anyway, but he didn’t like to. He looked at the watch on his wrist to check the time again. Hopefully, he would be home in time to at least get another two hours of play in before he went to sleep.

At the library, Ran turned down the aisle of the special reference section and let out a small sigh of relief when he saw that no one was there. Good. It was better that way; he would feel the need to leave should anyone show up. The world was best when people were absent from it. He skimmed a few of the shelves before finding a few books on his topic, Aural Theory. In order to thumb through the pages of the books to find which would most benefit his research, Ran had to gently set down his violin on his right side. Though the violin itself was older than he was, the case was fairly new and was sturdy enough to withstand nearly anything. It wasn’t necessary for him to be as gentle as he was with it, but it was a habit he dare not break.

Ran could not be sure how much time had passed before he felt his nose go cold. He rubbed at it absently before noticing that his ears had grown chill as well. In fact, his whole body felt like the room had dropped dramatically in temperature which was strange because-

Ran looked to his right and saw them then- steel blue eyes stared back at him from several meters away nearly at the end of the aisle just before the shelves hit the wall. 

He hadn’t realized he wasn’t alone.

The man was staring at him, a book open in his own hands, but his head turned to study Ran with unblinking eyes.

“What?” Ran snapped, uncomfortable that someone appeared so interested in him, let alone a stranger notice him at all. 

The other man blinked, looked down at his book for only a second, and then looked back up at him with the same intense gaze.

“What do you want?” Ran did not hide his annoyance in the stranger’s behavior. The other guy, assumedly a Waseda student, appeared to be incredibly invested in memorizing everything about him, because, slowly, even from a distance, Ran could see the man’s blue eyes travel. Ran, without looking at where he was even putting it, shoved the book he’d been holding back on the shelf. He couldn’t place what he saw inside the eyes of the stranger. No one had ever looked upon him with such intensity before.  _ Curiosity _ was too tame. He would have recognized  _ pity _ or  _ sympathy _ in a heartbeat.

_ Hunger? _

Ran took a step back.

“ _ Wait _ ,” the stranger spoke a single word before Ran took off down the aisle and into the stairwell. From there, he ran. It was better that he could not see himself in that moment. A scowl had developed on his face and he appeared visibly annoyed. 

Why did people have to bother him? Why couldn’t he be left alone? Why were the weird ones always the ones to take notice of him?

It wasn’t until he was on the bus that he spared a moment to review what had happened. The sun was already setting. He leaned his forehead against the window of the public bus and closed his eyes. 

_ He brought us nothing but misfortune. The wicked loved your father. _

Ran heard his mother’s voice in the back of his mind, though he was no longer sure if it was accurate or something he’d made up to speak the words he could recall her saying. 

_ The wicked loved your father, just as they will one day love you. _

White hair. It had been so unnatural. He’d seen it on TV commercials and on the covers of magazines, but he’d never seen it in person. Rather, he’d never seen someone’s hair bleached and dyed like that. The man in the special reference section couldn’t have been older than twenty-nine. Maybe, he should have expected it with this city. It just threw him off, because he wasn’t used to the people here, yet, let alone the environment. He needed something familiar. 

“Papa?”

Ran reached for the handle of his violin.

Gone?

He sat up suddenly, jolted awake by the revelation that his violin was missing. He looked beside him and-

Ran’s fuschia colored eyes went wide and he froze, sitting straight up with his muscles tensed. 

The man with the white hair and the blue eyes was sitting right beside him.

Instead of appearing hungry, however, the man only smiled, and the blue eyes sparkled warmly, “Did you fall asleep?”

Ran moved forward to the edge of his seat, his eyes darting away to look at the other seats on the bus. It was nearly empty. The bus was nearly empty, over twenty seats available, and this man had to sit right next to him.

Their eyes met again, and Ran refused to let his guard down as he tried to simultaneously calm his panic over misplacing his violin and also strategically get out of whatever situation this man was trying to force him into. 

“Why are you following me? What’s wrong with you?” Ran was not the most eloquent when it came to social interactions, and he was generally rather defensive and suspicious of everyone he met, but at least this time, he had good reason to be.

The stranger appeared unimpressed and almost a bit impatient, “These are rather cliche questions. Aren’t you going to ask about your violin?”

Ran narrowed his eyes, “You have it?”

“Hmm, a violin? Wouldn’t you know, surprisingly enough, I did find one just lying around at the library,” the stranger replied with a smile that stretched too wide.

“Give it to me.” 

Blue eyes blinked and the stranger relaxed back in his seat, crossing a leg, “You’re rude, aren’t you? All work and no play makes life rather boring, don’t you think?”

Ran had to turn slightly to confront him now, “ _ I’m _ rude?” He waited only a beat before asking, exasperated, “What do you want from me?”

The stranger smiled still, meeting the other’s desperation with a friendly tone, “How come I’ve never seen you around before?”

Ran played along, hoping it would get him to his violin faster, “I don’t go here. This library is open to the public, you know?”

The stranger shook his head as if the answer had been a lie, “That’s not it.” He tilted his head, thoughtful, as if he was trying to recall a memory, “And, is that a dialect I hear?”

Ran ignored the comment about his dialect. It slipped, at times, and he hated it. He had no idea it would be so noticeable to people in the city. He’d never been outside of Gifu, so he’d never realized how different he sometimes spoke in comparison to the rest of Japan, “What does it matter if you’ve seen me before? Do you want money for the violin?” He didn’t have much, but the violin was priceless.

“Are you new to Tokyo then?” 

“The violin!” He shouted suddenly. The four other people on the bus looked up and Ran immediately looked down at his knees. He hated the attention he was bringing to himself.

The stranger sighed before placing his smile back in place, with a suspicious sparkle in his eyes, “I’ll make a deal with you.”

“I will report you to the police,” Ran replied flatly.

The man smirked and very nearly rolled his eyes, “With everything you say, it only becomes more telling that you’re not from this city.”

Ran moved back into his seat, quiet. He would have to hear whatever the transaction would be whether he wanted to or not. 

“I’ll bring you your violin to your apartment.”

Ran looked up into blue eyes once more, confusion and annoyance battling for dominance across his face.

“You invite me over, and I’ll bring the violin.”

“ . . . Are you a pervert?”

Haru actually laughed at the question, and if it hadn’t annoyed Ran so much, he would have realized how charming it sounded. “It depends, are you?”

Ran couldn’t believe this. Was the man making fun of him? He didn’t understand how badly he needed his violin. He didn’t understand what it meant to him. What it was-

“Fine. I live in Toshima.”

“One second.” The older of the two reached inside his jacket and produced a phone. After unlocking it, he handed it to the other. 

Ran stared at the Maps screen for moment before understanding the request and inputting his address, including the apartment number; grudgingly, he handed it back to the person beside him. He knew this was a mistake, but what choice did he have?

The next stop was voiced over the intercom on the bus, _ “Takadanobaba. Takadanobaba.” _

The stranger stood up. 

“You’re leaving?”

“This is my stop.”

“What about the violin?”

The bus rolled to a stop.

“When would you like me to visit?”

What kind of question was that? He narrowed his eyes, “I need it back as soon as possible.”

The stranger turned his head as he walked away and winked as he exited, “I’ll see you tonight.”

Ran sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. His right hand opened and closed once- twice. 

“Papa . . .”

 

Ran checked his watch again. It had been nearly two and a half hours since he had last seen the man on the bus. Since then, he had cooked two meals, wrapped and packaged his bento for the next two days, dusted and cleaned his small apartment, done most of his homework aside from the essay he’d needed more research for, and now he was fiddling with his collection of omamori.

For someone like him, they were rather useful, but only spirits appeared to actually respond to them. Anything that held a physical body that was attracted to him were almost entirely unaffected by them. It was another reason to avoid people. His mother had said his father was cursed and that he was, too, but he hadn’t really recognized it until after her death.

He had only been eight when he’d lost both of his parents only six months apart.

He touched the old charms with his fingertips before closing the small wooden box he kept them in. He usually had one on him at all times, but different charms were used for different things, and the shrine local to his hometown had made a few for him specifically.

“Could that man be-”

A knock at the door sounded and Ran’s words caught in his throat. He put the small box on his nightstand, walked over the the door, and opened it only just enough to see who it was.

“Violin?”

Brilliant blue eyes behind white, silver bangs shined as the same stranger from that afternoon smiled down at him, “Let me in, and it is yours.” He held up the old, familiar case with a glowing grin of satisfaction.

What he was satisfied with, Ran couldn't tell but he was _ this close _ to getting his violin back, so he opened the door all the way to allow the man to come into his apartment.

The stranger didn’t move, and, for a moment, an awkward silence fell between them.

“Come in already,” Ran griped.

Holding the violin, he stepped into the apartment and removed his shoes as the door shut behind him.

The college freshman with the black hair waited impatiently, but the stranger ignored his glare.

Still holding the case, he sniffed the air, “Oh, did you just finish eating? I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?” He walked further in to see the bed waiting to be slept in, the small bookshelf, an old TV, and a floor table. There really wasn’t much to it at all. In fact, there wasn’t a personality to be spoken of in the long and tiny apartment. No pictures. No knick-knacks. Very little color. Just boring. “Wow, you’re pretty boring. You do anything outside of play this violin?” He looked at the speaker set on the bookcase. On the next shelf was a bunch of sheet music, and the same could be said for the bottom shelf. 

Ran was too frustrated to be sarcastic. “I’d like my violin back now,” Ran was practically seething, so the stranger handed it over before things became too uncomfortable. The violinist was a twig in comparison to him, but the stranger never liked violent means for a violent end. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

Still, he’d try to have a little fun, “This must be why you live alone.”

“What?” Ran opened the case as he knelt on the floor to inspect the instrument.

“Terrible personality,” the stranger remarked with a smile.

Ran closed the case and narrowed his eyes from his position on the floor, “You can leave now.”

That’s when the stranger noticed the wooden box on the nightstand, “I’m not finished.” With Ran in the kitchen, it was easy for the stranger to grab the box beside the man’s bed. 

“Stop! What are you-?” Ran lunged, but the stranger was taller, quicker, and far more focused on his own goals than Ran was on the stranger.

The stranger moved toward the end of the long apartment towards the short balcony doors. Long windows that slid open to step outside onto the short space that somehow passed as a balcony were all that kept him from an escape route should he need one. The stranger carefully opened the box.

“Omamori? This must be another reason you’re such a loner.”

That confirmed things for Ran. The person he had just let inside his home was here because of his curse. “What are you?”  The omamori were clearly having no effect on him, so he certainly had and maintained a physical body.

The man with the white hair grinned mischievously, “My name is Haru, and I’m what you might call . . . a vampire.”

 

“Cut!” Fujiwara yelled and the camera was stopped, but Tomo didn’t take his eyes off of Ryuuji for several seconds afterwards. 

Ryuuji looked away, shook his head slightly, and turned back to look at his partner with a smile. “Episode One, finished.”

“Good work, Ryuuji.”

“Good work, Tomo.”

“Another take!” Fujiwara came forward between them and began guiding Tomohisa through the blocking he was looking for. 

For a second, Kitakore exchanged glances. They would not be leaving on time after all.

 

“Ah, finally home!” Ryuuji fell into the couch and squeezed one of the pillows with a small whine.

They had finished their first week of filming and it had been completely exhausting. Since he had such a big role in the drama, which was different from the film they’d done, there was a lot more time spent on set and in front of the camera than he had ever experienced before. He wasn’t used to being center stage in that regard, and though it had encouraged his self-esteem to be given such a responsibility, it also made him even more nervous that he might not succeed because of it.

He had to keep reminding himself that it was bigger than himself; the drama was to support Kitakore and all of B-Project as well. There were so many people paying attention to him, but there were even more people that were touched by Kitakore and an infinite number of people touched by BPro. 

If he failed as Korekuni Ryuuji, he was failing as part of Kitakore and B-Project, too. How were the others ever able to handle so much pressure?

Then, to be fair, none of them had starred in their own drama yet. They’d made cameos, and Thrive had equal footing as stars in _ Barking Dogs _ , but none of them had taken on the role Ryuuji had now.  

Tomohisa walked around the other side of the couch and sat at the opposite end. There was just enough space for him as Ryuuji adjusted to lying comfortably with his head on a pillow near his partner’s lap. “You can use me as a pillow if you like, my beautiful prima.”

Ryuuji rolled his eyes, sat up, hit Tomo in the face with the pillow he’d been holding, grabbed a new one, and dropped it into Tomo’s lap to rest his head there. He returned to lying down on the couch, this time with his head in Tomo’s lap. “I can’t believe we have to do this for another 11 weeks.” Ryuuji turned on his side and looked out at the living room.

He felt Tomohisa’s familiar fingers idly play with his hair, “I rather enjoyed every minute of it. You didn’t?” It was quickly apparent how unaccustomed Tomo was to playing with such short hair as Ryuuji had now.

Ryuuji didn’t look up, but instead, closed his eyes, “It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it. It’s just . . . a lot of pressure. I think the haniga will like the story, but my character is so different . . . I’m worried I’m not-”

“Ryuuji,” Kitakado firmly interrupted him.

“Yes?”

“Isn’t it important to remember that the creator chose you?” he asked gently.

“Yes, but-”

“You should focus on this being an opportunity to have fun. Ryuuji is at his most brilliant when he is having fun.”

“You should be taking this more seriously,” the younger one chided.

Tomohisa didn’t say anything. Usually, he was able to ease Ryuuji’s fears and concerns with a few words and a playful touch, but it wasn’t working this evening. Perhaps Ryuuji was just tired. Truth be told, he was as well. 

“We should get some rest.”

“Yes,” Ryuuji stood up and waved behind him without looking back, “Night, Tomo.”

On the couch, Tomohisa watched him leave, “Goodnight, Ryuuji.”

Once alone, Tomohisa sank into the couch and closed his eyes. Ryuuji always worked very hard, but it was possible that this was too much to ask of him. Rather, it wasn’t that it was too much; it was just more than what he was prepared to handle emotionally. Tomohisa had worked with Ryuuji a long time, so he knew, better than anyone, how much pressure Ryuuji put on himself to perform his best. He only hoped he could support Ryuuji in any way he could.

It was the end of the first week, and yet, Tomo already felt hopelessness sneaking its way into his thoughts. If he could not alleviate Ryuuji’s stress- if he could not make him smile, then what was the point?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so, the idea is that in the back of your mind you are aware that the 'stranger' is being played by Tomo and Ran is Ryuuji. However, the transitions between the two are jarring and may become more-so as time goes on. T-T  
> I'd like to thank a friend of mine for helping me out! I hope you guys can continue to enjoy it!  
>  ~~  
> //Did you guys see MeseMoa's "Shadow Kiss" yet? I feel drunk.~~

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had a dream last night, and now I feel ready to write a 12 chapter kitakore fic. OTL /my bad life choices  
> And to explain, the 'vampire' tag is for the drama they have been cast in, not for the characters themselves. OTL


End file.
